Of Doctors and Secrets
by MyownlilfantaC
Summary: Sequel to 'Of Skateboards and Doctors'. Reid starts to teach an eager Jack how to use a skateboard even though he knows Hotch doesn't approve. When Hotch finds out and loses his temper, he is alarmed by Spencer's reaction. Warnings: Mild Slash and Reid could be considered OOC.
1. Chapter 1

I wasn't planning on continuing this, but so many people suggested that I do so I thought I'd give it a try and see what happened...

* * *

Hotch narrowed his eyes in what he knew was an intimidating manner, but the object of his suspicion seemed, as usual, to be completely oblivious and immune to his usual scare tactics and just blinked owlishly back at him, large brown eyes wide with innocent curiosity.

He ignored the failed attempt at intimidating Reid and sighed exasperatedly when he felt his son tug on his sleeve for the fifth time in as many minutes.

"But daaaaad! I don't _like_ that babysitter. She smells funny...and she won't let me watch Scooby-Doo _and_ she makes me eat the yellow beans at supper. I don't _like_ yellow beans and I _don't_ like _her_!"

"Jack!" Hotch scolded, "What have I told you about talking like that?"

The young boy let go of his father's sleeve and toed the carpet with his shoe, looking properly ashamed. "That its not nice to say bad things about people..." he grumbled at the floor. After a moment he looked back up with puppy eyes and a wide smile. "Sorry, daddy."

Hotch resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Did you even think to _ask_ Spencer if he _wants_ to babysit you?"

Jack looked confused. "Well he would. 'Cause uncle Spencer likes me! Right uncle Spencer?"

"Right!" Reid said, ruffling the kid's hair as he walked in the general direction of the coffee machine.

"You don't mind, Reid?" Hotch asked, not wanting the young man to feel pressured into babysitting for him for the third time in two weeks.

The young doctor smiled over the rim of his coffee mug. "Of course not." His gaze settled on Jack then. "We have fun, don't we Jack?"

"Uncle Spencer taught me how to make a rocket out of the little plastic container that you keep film in, daddy!"

Hotch level a glare at his youngest agent upon hearing that. "Did he." He felt somewhat satisfied when Reid took a larger than average gulp of his coffee.

Jack was tugging on his sleeve again.

"Hey, do you know what happens when you drop Mentos candies into a bottle of coke, daddy?"

When Hotch's head snapped up again to glare at the young doctor, Reid was already halfway down the hallway and moving in the opposite direction of the bullpen at a hurried pace. Just before he rounded the first corner he happened upon, he threw a furtive glance over his shoulder, pulling a face when he realized Hotch was watching him go.

Feeling as if he had, yet again, avoided a potentially dangerous situation with Hotch and whatever object the man might have been holding in his hand, Spencer chuckled a little as he headed down to the lobby for some lunch.

Jack had spent the better part of the day here after telling the nurse at school that he was much too ill to continue the day _there_. Having no other option, Hotch was forced to pick him up and bring him to the office. Luckily, Strauss was away and the rest of the team seemed delighted to have the boy there to break up their endless amounts of tedious paperwork.

Spencer enjoyed babysitting Jack, as he had found out that the kid had a knack for science related activities. Like film canister rockets and exploding coke bottles. Teaching had been a career he had once seriously thought about perusing before he had made the decision to join the FBI and it was fun to teach someone as eager and excited to learn as Jack was.

But he was sure that he knew the _real_ reason Jack was so eager to have him babysit. Last time the kid had somehow managed to convince him that it would be a good idea to let him have a go on Reid's skateboard. He wasn't sure how it had happened, or how a little kid had managed to convince a seasoned profiler that blatantly defying Hotch's orders was a good idea. He guessed it had something to do with those big puppy-dog eyes, but he couldn't be sure. Either way, Jack had officially gotten his first taste of boarding and he was hooked.

And if it was one thing Spencer knew, it was that he was completely unable to say no to Jack and Henry.

"You alright, pretty boy?"

"Huh?" Spencer said, feeling as eloquent as always.

Morgan smiled at him, "You look worried. Everything alright?"

"Oh! Yeah, no. Just...you know..." He trailed off in his signature awkward style and a feeble wave of his hand.

Derek cocked a brow at the young genius. "Well that was clear as mud. You sure everything's ok?" the older man was starting to look genuinely concerned so Spencer decided to elaborate.

"I'm just a little worried that Hotch might give me a fatal paper cut across the throat with the file folder he's holding."

Blinking in confusion and then looking around the lobby to confirm that Hotch was actually nowhere in sight, Morgan once again fixed a perplexed gaze on his coworker. "Ok, Reid. Walk me through it, man." He said clearly and slowly, like he always did when he wanted Reid to realize that he wasn't explaining himself nearly as well as he thought.

"Oh, well, the last few times I babysat Jack I...might have taught him a few tricks that Hotch doesn't approve of."

"Tricks?"

"Science tricks...you know. The film canister rocket and the Mentos and coke thing..."

Morgan was grinning and shaking his head. "Reid, I'm sure Hotch won't kill you for getting his kid interested in science stuff."

Spencer grimaced, feeling the weight of the skateboard issue push against his chest.

Morgan stopped grinning when he realized how uncomfortable the genius actually was. "Reid, Hotch seriously won't get angry over something like that and he wouldn't ever actually hurt you."

Spencer pulled another face and glanced at the doors connecting the lobby to the rest of the building for the fourth time, battling the urge to confide in Morgan about what he had done. But telling someone also meant there was someone else who knew what he did! Could he take that risk?

Morgan was starting to look worried again. "Reid, come on. You don't actually think Hotch would physically hurt you because you showed his kid what happens when you throw a certain type of candy into a bottle of soda, do you?"

"I let Jack use my skateboard!" Spencer blurted all of a sudden, unable to contain it any longer. He needed someone else to know. He needed someone else to tell him that his fear of getting caught was ridiculous.

He nervously brought a hand to his mouth and started chewing on his thumbnail, carefully watching Morgan's reaction. But there wasn't much of a reaction to analyze, since Derek's face had gone slack and he just said, "Ohhh..."

Then the older agent cleared his throat, clapped him on the shoulder and said, "Well, good luck with that." before walking out of the building.

Spencer was left staring at the empty space Derek had just vacated for several seconds before turning and running after the man. He caught up to him halfway down the paved path to the street.

"Morgan!" He cried, "That was not the least bit helpful!"

The man turned to regard him with an easy smile. "Well I couldn't think of anything to say that you'd actually want to hear. You introduced Jack to a sport that Hotch made clear he didn't like." He grasped Reid's shoulders theatrically, his face grim. "It was nice knowing you, man."

Spencer pushed the man's arms away grumpily. Morgan was now openly laughing at his expense and he crossed his arms over his chest defensively and cocked a brow, allowing a small smirk to tug at one corner of his mouth.

His facial expression halted Morgan's laughter almost immediately.

"Well, I think Hotch would be interested to know that you knew about his son engaging in dangerous sporting activities and deliberately withheld the information from him." He put on a contemplative face, bringing his finger to his chin and looking upwards as if seriously considering Morgan's predicament. "Yes, I think he would be most interested."

"You're blackmailing me?" Morgan cried, loud enough so that people turned their heads to see what the commotion was all about.

Spencer scoffed, "No." he said as if Morgan were crazy. "I am merely stating that I may release substantially true or false information about you to an associate unless my demands are met."

Morgan exhaled through his nose, a classic sign of anger and aggression in males with an alpha quality such as Derek and Spencer took an involuntary step backwards when said alpha male pointed a finger at him threateningly.

"I'm a lot bigger than you, pretty boy."

He smiled disarmingly, gently applying force to Morgan's raised hand until it lowered. "Correct. However-"

"Reid!"

The doctor jumped slightly at the volume of Morgan's voice. "Ok, Morgan, _please_ just talk to Hotch about it, ok? Don't let him know what I did, just work it into casual conversation that you think skateboarding is super cool and that today's youth could really benefit from extracurricular activities such as this. Then just throw in a few facts about childhood obesity rates and improvements to safety equipment over the last few years and he'll be like putty in your hands!" The young genius finished with an encouraging grin.

Morgan's mouth was hanging open in disbelief. At the end of Reid's rant he shook his head slightly. "You're crazy." he began walking away again. "You're completely nuts."

Spencer watched him go dejectedly and then followed in his footsteps. If he was going to get lunch he better do it soon, since his break time was almost over.

* * *

Spencer pulled into Hotch's driveway, making sure that the box of stuff in his back seat was covered before getting out of his car and making his way to the door.

Over the past two weeks he had been slowly collecting some equipment for Jack's new hobby. If he was going to teach the kid how to board in secret then he needed to have the proper safety gear. He managed to get the basics like knee and elbow pads and a helmet of course, but just yesterday Justin had told him that he had a pair of hand guards that his nephew had just outgrown and that Jack could have. A couple days before that Brian, after hearing about Spencer's efforts to pass on their skateboarding knowledge to the next generation, had donated his kid brother's old skateboard for Jack to use as well.

All in all, Spencer expected the kid to flip out when he brought in the box of gear. After Hotch had safely pulled out of the driveway and been gone for at least twenty minutes of course.

He rung the doorbell and immediately heard a thundering of feet that got progressively louder as Jack neared the door.

"Hi, uncle Spencer!"

"Hey buddy!"

Jack ran full tilt back in the direction of the kitchen, screaming, "Daddy, Spencer's here!"

"Jack, you need to calm down, buddy." Hotch said softly, ruffling his son's hair.

"Ok! I'm gonna go put Scooby-Doo on!"

After the child had careened out of sight, Spencer exhaled a puff of air and grinned. "What's got him so wired?"

Hotch managed to scowl and roll his eyes simultaneously. "Garcia's been feeding him cookies all day. Sick my ass. I've raised a little brat." He said with affection and some amount of pride.

"Don't let him see how proud you are about his ability to manipulate his teachers." Although he knew Hotch probably just found it amusing more than anything else.

The older man smiled and he looked at his son sitting on the floor in front of the tv. "No. But I won't call him on it either." He sighed and his eyes turned sad as he unfolded and refolded the dishtowel in his hands. "I've missed so much time with him already and him faking sick so he can come home and spend the day with me won't last forever."

Spencer frowned, wishing he could understand what Hotch was feeling.

"Thank you for coming over, by the way." the older man said suddenly, looking up from the dishtowel. "I would have been stuck otherwise."

He bit his lip as he followed Hotch into the kitchen, unsure if it would be appropriate to ask what the man was going out for. He decided it probably wouldn't be and kept his mouth shut, only nodding when Hotch asked if he'd like a cup of coffee.

When the two men sat down at the table there was a moment of silence before Hotch cleared his throat, looking a little uncomfortable. The expression, while not unusual, was one rarely seen on Hotch's face and Spencer felt intrigued and a little nervous.

"Morgan mentioned something to me earlier today before we left the office."

Spencer now felt no intrigue and only nervousness. He couldn't believe Morgan had told the man after he had practically begged him not to, after he had confided in him! He especially thought the blackmail would have been effective in getting the other agent to keep his mouth shut.

He wished there were something he could throw up in.

"I wasn't actually mad at you today when Jack told me about the, uh, science magic that you taught him."

If Reid had been a religious man, he would have been thanking the deities at that moment.

"It was more to discourage Jack from trying anything unsupervised. If he thinks I don't like something he usually won't try it."

Spencer's eyes were wide. "Yeah."

"I just don't want him to try it by himself and have him put an eye out or something."

Reid felt that just continuing to nod was the best course of action at this point, since opening his mouth in such situations usually ended poorly for him.

"Anyway, I just wanted you to know that." Hotch continued, "Plus, I've been trying to get him interested in something besides Art class and Scooby-Doo for a while so I actually should be thanking you."

Spencer laughed when his boss did and wiped the sweat off his palms, feeling terrible for lying to the man but knowing that Jack really enjoyed skating and would not be allowed to do it anymore if his father found out.

After looking at his watch, Hotch rose and placed his empty mug in the sink. "Better get going I suppose." He said with a sigh. He gave off the impression that he didn't really want to go wherever it was that he was meant to be.

Jack was suddenly at Spencer's elbow, trying to get him to come to the living room to watch Scooby-Doo. "Come watch it with me, uncle Spencer. Daddy has to go on a date with Angela!"

Spencer heard Hotch make some sort of noise from the hallway and grinned, looking down at Jack.

"He _does_? That's very interesting, Jack!"

"She's really pretty!"

"I bet she is!"

"And she has _really_ big-"

"JACK!"

Hotch looked scandalized, his eyes wide and his tie hanging loose about his neck. He glared at Reid, who was doubled over with silent laughter.

"I'll be back by ten." The older man grumbled, closing the door with a bit more force than necessary as he left.

The other two were silent as they listened for the car to start and then leave the driveway. It was at this point that Jack turned to him, "Can we go skateboarding now?"

Spencer smiled and told him to wait right there while he went and got a surprise from the car. When he came back in, Jack was in the same spot where he had left him and was practically vibrating with energy, making Spencer frown.

"How many cookies did auntie Penny give you today?" he asked.

Jack seemed to be contemplating his answer carefully. "She gave me three cookies."

Spencer felt his eyes narrow. "Ok. And how many cookies did you eat?"

Jack's face fell when he realized Spencer had caught on to his little word game. He looked down at the floor shamefully. "...seven."

"Seven? Ok, no bedtime treat tonight buddy. You've had enough sugar as it is."

After the brief argument that followed Spencer's decision to withhold bedtime snacks was resolved, he helped the boy don his new boarding gear, which took a lot longer than Spencer had thought it would do to the squirming, giggling and a hide and seek game that somehow developed between attaching the second kneed pad and trying to get on the first hand guard.

Forty five minutes later found them in the street, Jack carrying his little skateboard under his arm and struggling to move properly in the ridiculous amount padding and protection that was currently strapped around him.

"Ok, remember what you learned last week?" Spencer asked.

The boy nodded eagerly, only wobbling a bit when he stepped onto the board.

Reid smiled and dug out his phone to take a picture of the complete adorableness of the scene.

Jack gingerly lowered a foot to the pavement and gave himself an experimental push forward, immediately retracting his foot when the board rolled slowly forward. Spencer made sure to walk close to his side in case he started to fall but otherwise did not get involved.

Having successfully gotten the board to move without falling off seemed to embolden Jack and he lowered his foot again, a little more confident, and pushed himself forward with a bit more force, making an "Ohhhhh!" sound as the moved down the road.

"Good job!" Spencer encouraged, still staying close enough to catch the boy if he fell.

After a few more minutes, he felt Jack was doing well and he hopped on top of his own board and let himself roll down the road at the speed Jack had set, still watching carefully. They did this up and down the street for the better part of an hour, towards the end of which Jack was becoming more and more brave and making the board roll faster and faster.

Spencer called it a night not long after the sun had set, when it became obvious that little Jack was tiring quickly. There was no struggle getting all the gear off, getting the kid to take a bath and then going to bed. When Hotch got home, Spencer was peering stubbornly through tired eyes at the tv, trying to figure out what the hell he was watching.

"This cartoon makes no sense." he muttered as Hotch slumped wordlessly into the chair next to the sofa. "You would never be able to splice the DNA of a rhinoceros and a bird and have two brains in one body." he sighed and finally closed his eyes. "Ridiculous."

After a minute Hotch had still not said anything and Spencer peeled his eyes open to regard his boss.

"So...how'd your date go?" he asked with a smirk.

Hotch sent him a long-suffering glare. "I don't want to talk about it."

Spencer sat up. "Fair enough." He hadn't really wanted to hear about it anyway.

"Thanks again for looking after Jack. I owe you one."

Spencer stilled only for a fraction of a second before logging the handy little phrase away in his head for later use. He waved as he left and called over his shoulder "See you tomorrow."

* * *

**Six Months Later**

* * *

Spencer was on his way over to Hotch's house again to babysit Jack while the Unit Chief and Rossi went to some swanky bar where everyone drank scotch in small square glasses and the air was so thick with cigar smoke that you'd choke on it. He had spent most of the drive so far thinking about how incredibly talented Jack was when it came to boarding. The kid was picking up the skill at an incredible rate and had already mastered smaller scale jumps and ramps.

He was also thinking about telling Jack that it was high time they came clean with Hotch. They couldn't hide this forever, after all, and perhaps it wouldn't be so bad when the older man found out how much Jack enjoyed it and how good he was at it.

Spencer scoffed. '_Yeah, right.'_

After Hotch and Spencer shared a short conversation and a cup of coffee, Hotch left and Spencer followed Jack out to his car to get the box of gear.

"Do I _still_ have to wear all this stuff?" Jack asked, looking at the knee pads in his hands like they were something gross.

"Yes. If you want to keep skating, anyway." Spencer answered at once, leaving no room for argument.

The boy sat down on the grass and got to work putting them on. "_Fine_..."

"Do you want to go to the store and get a popsicle?" Spencer asked the disgruntle boy, knowing this would cheer him up.

It was a ridiculously hot day and a popsicle sounded like a damn good idea to the young genius. Apparently it did to Jack too, for the rest of his safety gear was in place in record time and they were moving down the street at an impressive speed for such a little kid.

Spencer swayed his board in a lazy zigzag pattern down the street, enjoying the feel of the sun beating down on his bare arms and face. Mirages could be seen in dips in the road and the air shimmered and wobbled from the heat radiating off the black pavement. On days like this, when it was unseasonably hot, he felt like he was home again.

They wasted no time in entering the little convenience store when they reached it, though, desperate for the air conditioning that it provided. It was for this reason that Spencer let Jack take his time picking out the popsicle he wanted.

They sat on the curb in the shade of the building while they ate. Spencer glanced down at the kid and sighed, seeing that most of the purple colored treat had ended up on the boy's face. He wiped away what he could with a napkin and scowled, "You might try eating the popsicle next time instead of wearing it like lipstick."

Jack giggled and continued eating like Reid hadn't spoken.

When they were on the way back to the house, popsicles gone and skin tingling from the heat of the sun, Reid heard a car coming up behind them and called for Jack to move to the side of the road. Jack did as instructed and hoped off his board to stand on the grass under a shady tree while he waited for the car to pass.

Spencer had the intention of following but frowned when the car sounded as if it were slowing down instead of passing by. He let his board slow down on its own as he drew closer to where Jack stood. When said boy waved at the vehicle, Spencer turned his head and swore.

"Shit..." he muttered under his breath, seeing the black SUV roll to a stop just a few feet behind him.

Not looking where he was going, the edge of his board met the side of the curb and stopped moving. Unfortunately due to the laws of motion, Spencer had no such obstacle to keep him from continuing his forward movement.

He groaned from his place on the grass and sat up, rubbing his shoulder.

"You okay, uncle Spencer?" Jack said, looking worried.

He heard the unmistakable sound of two car doors slamming closed.

"We'll see..."

When Jack turned to follow Reid's gaze his eyes widened comically.

"Hi, daddy..."

"What the hell is going on here?" Hotch snarled as he stepped off the road and onto the grass.

"Aaron..." Rossi warned gently from his spot by the SUV.

Spencer swallowed convulsively at the anger he saw in Hotch's face. Instinctively, he inched backwards on the grass, his eyes wide. He felt like a little kid that had just been caught doing something he knew was wrong. Unfortunately, this had been a familiar scene for him as a kid, the only difference was Hotch probably wasn't intoxicate like William would have been.

"Jack, get in the car."

"But daddy-"

"I said get in the car!"

'_Oh my god, he's actually, legitimately going to kill me._' Spencer thought, alarmed by how the scene was unfolding like so many others he remembered.

Once Jack was in the car, Hotch seemed to be trying to control his anger by taking several deep breaths, his eyes closed and his hands on his hips. From where Spencer was, frozen in place on the ground, shoulder throbbing dully and stomach churning with dread, his attempts didn't seem to be working.

He could feel the weight of Rossi's gaze on him, but didn't dare look away from Hotch, lest the man lunge at him like-

'_Come on, Spencer, Hotch isn't your father. Get a grip._' He told himself harshly.

Suddenly Hotch turned on him, eyes now open, and hand already raising into the air, "I _told_ you-"

Against his will, Spencer felt his body flinch violently, honed by years of abuse at the hands of his father. His sore arm jerked up to deflect a blow he logically knew would not land and his eyes slammed shut. After a second though, he gingerly opened them and peered out at Hotch from under his arm.

His muscles unclenched when he saw that the older man had not raised his hand to hit him but to point at him. In fact, the Unit Chief's hand was still frozen like that, though the man didn't seem to notice, and he was staring at Reid with a concerned look on his face.

Spencer took the opportunity to stand on shaky legs, feeling a little ridiculous. He _knew_ Hotch wouldn't have hit him. He should have been able to stop his reaction. '_Old habits die hard_.' He reminded himself, accepting that this hadn't been the first time he'd reacted like this in a situation that did not call for it and it probably would not be the last. '_I really need to work on that_.'

Spencer was pulled from his thoughts when Hotch stepped towards him and he instinctively moved back a pace to maintain the distance between them.

"Reid, I'm sorry..."

Something clicked in Spencer's head then and he shook his head. "No, _I'm_ sorry! I should have told you, I wanted to, but Jack just loves it so much and I was worried that he wouldn't be allowed to skate anymore and then I thought about how upset he'd be and-"

"Reid-"

"-I didn't want to be the reason he had to stop skating. But then I thought-"

"Reid-"

"-it wasn't right to lie to you and-"

"Spencer!"

Reid's jaw snapped closed and he jumped, breathing heavily through his nose.

Hotch approached him slowly and gently said. "Take a deep breath, please."

Spencer did as instructed and waited with baited breath as Hotch observed him closely. After a few minutes his heart rate had slowed to it's normal pace and his legs were no longer shaking.

"Better?" Hotch asked at length, appearing much more calm as well.

Rossi went back to sit in the car with Jack, apparently no longer feeling as if he might need to play peace keeper.

Spencer nodded, "Yeah. Sorry..."

Hotch was watching him carefully, all signs of earlier anger gone. "You and I are going to talk about a few things tomorrow."

Spencer nodded at once, eager to appease the man and keep him from getting angry again.

Hotch studied his subordinate's face for another second before telling him to get in the SUV.

Spencer released a breath he hadn't even known he was holding when Hotch turned around. He wasn't sure what the man had been looking for when he'd scrutinized him so closely but he was just glad the confrontation was over and that Hotch no longer seemed homicidal.

He climbed in to the blissfully cool car and laid his board across his lap. When he looked over at Jack, the child was already staring up at him with watery eyes. Spencer smiled encouragingly and ruffled the kid's hair to let him know all was well and earned a tentative smile in response.

* * *

Not gonna lie, I did not anticipate this turning into a semi-serious story. I had originally meant to keep it light but it didn't happen.

This might develop into a chapter fic, but I'm not sure yet. I'll leave it open for now I guess.

Tell me what you think!


	2. Chapter 2

Hotch glanced at the large glass doors to the bullpen again, wondering what had caused Reid to be so uncharacteristically late. He was worried that it had something to do with the incident last night when he'd caught him and Jack skateboarding down the road, as if he hadn't made it perfectly clear what he thought of the sport. He admitted that he'd lost his temper, something that didn't happen often, but it had drained away rather quickly when he'd turned his anger on Reid, fully prepared to reprimand him right there on the side of the street.

The young agent's reaction to Hotch's anger had been...alarming, to say the least. All it had taken was for Reid's brain to register that Hotch had started to move and the Unit Chief had watched as Spencer flinched violently and raised his arm to deflect a blow. The signs of it being a purely instinctual movement had all been there. Reid's legs had inched upwards towards his chest and his shoulders had hunched up to protect his neck, his face turned away and scrunched up in anticipation. It was one of those reactions that you just couldn't control no matter how illogical your head knew it was, and Hotch recognized that.

And he wouldn't have been nearly as concerned as he was if Reid had immediately recovered, blurting out apologies and looking embarrassed, as most people would have.

But no, he hadn't done that and it was this that had Hotch worried. Reid had first carefully opened his eyes to assess the level of threat and, only after he had deemed it safe, did he actually lower his arm and uncurl his body. This meant that on some level, even if Reid was not aware of it himself, he'd been momentarily seriously concerned for his safety.

At first, after he had gotten home and Reid had left, he'd been a little insulted that Reid might think he lacked that much self control and would actually hurt him. Then a more chilling thought occurred to him, one he hadn't considered until then.

Had Reid been physically abused as a child?

As soon as the question popped into his head, Hotch was pretty sure he knew the answer. It just explained too much about the young genius NOT to be true. His timid nature, poor social skills and aversion to physical contact were all byproducts of an abusive childhood, but he didn't want to jump to conclusions and resisted his initial desire to have Garcia look into Reid's history. The young man was a very private person and if he found out that Hotch had gone behind his back to snoop around in his past he would not only be furious, but he would never trust Hotch again. And trust was not something the Unit Chief could afford to lose.

Just as he was considering calling the young genius, the man in question appeared in the bullpen, over a half hour late and wearing a murderous look that somehow seemed scarier on his delicate features than it normally would on someone else.

* * *

In hindsight, Spencer thought that maybe the coffee had not been such a great idea that morning. He was practically humming with agitated energy as it was. His hand gripped his cheap travel mug hard enough to break it and his teeth were grinding so hard he was sure everyone on the subway could hear it. At the very least, they all seemed to sense his anger, for when he stomped onto the train everyone inched away from him in whatever direction happened to be available.

Unfortunately, the uneventful train ride merely served to make him more and more angry. Since there was nothing else to focus on, he just kept replaying the morning over and over in his head.

By the time he finally made it to work, he was over half an hour late, his coffee was going cold because of the cheap piece of porcelain crap travel mug it was in and, to top it all off, he looked just as great as he felt. He'd not had time to find proper work clothes and so was dressed in a pair of jeans and a simple black, long sleeved shirt. His hair was still tousled from the pitiful amount of sleep he'd gotten and from running his fingers through it a million times in frustration.

"Forget to set your alarm clock, pretty boy?" Derek asked teasingly. His head was bent over a file full of paperwork and he hadn't looked up when Spencer walked in, keeping him ignorant to the young man's dangerous mood.

Unreasonably annoyed by Morgan's remark, Spencer slammed his travel mug down so hard on his desk that it made his coworker nearly jump out of his chair and caused several pages from the folder to fly off the desk and flutter to the floor.

When Morgan's startled gaze snapped up to stare at him, Reid snarled, "I don't forget things!" and stormed off towards the break room to get more coffee.

Once he got there, Reid immediately felt bad about shouting at Morgan and reminded himself that he needed to calm down, as being angry was a waste of energy, fixed nothing and clouded his thoughts to the point where he usually ended up doing stupid things like screaming at his coworkers. Besides, it wasn't Morgan's fault that-

"Reid?"

He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw. ___'All I want is a hot cup of fucking coffee_...' Anger swelled in his stomach again, obliterating any progress he'd just made in calming himself down. "Sorry I yelled at you." is what he chose to mumble instead of shouting again. He glared down at the coffee maker, his hands flat on the counter either side of it, like he was trying to intimidate it into brewing faster.

"What the hell is going on, man?" The older agent asked concernedly, seeming not to care about Reid's little outburst a few minutes ago.

Spencer sighed, wishing Morgan would just go away. He just needed five minutes to himself and he'd be fine. That was all, just five minutes. But, in typical Morgan style, the man kept pushing. "It doesn't...I just...had a bad morning."

Morgan came up beside him, his dark gaze making the side of Reid's face burn.

"Reid, I've seen you go through a lot of bad days but I've never seen you this worked up. What's wrong-"

"Morgan!" Reid exclaimed loudly, his hand raising to silence the man and his eyes closing, trying, ___again_, to reign in his dwindling patience. His every muscle was tense and he was breathing through his nose. "I can't...not...I have to..."

"Calm down?" Morgan supplied.

"Yes, that."

When he returned to his desk, his cell phone was already ringing within his bag and he pulled it free, glanced at the caller ID and threw the phone on the desk, letting it ring. After a moment, the voice mail kicked in and the office was quiet again.

Morgan had moved back to his desk and sat down cautiously, his eyes never leaving Reid for a second.

Trying his best to ignore the overprotective agent, Spencer sunk into his chair and curled himself around his cup of steaming coffee, inhaling the rich and beautiful aroma. He instantly felt calmer, the anger ebbing away with every breath he took.

"Reid?"

He forced his eyes open when he heard Hotch's voice calling him from the Unit Chief's office door.

"What?" he asked while he stared into his coffee, as if he didn't know the man wanted him to step into his office. He didn't move in his chair though, hoping Hotch would just take the hint and leave him alone for a few more minutes.

Suddenly his cell phone blared to life again, vibrating loudly against his desk and making him jump. He looked at the ID again and felt an actual growl claw its way out of his throat. For the briefest of moments, he considered answering itl, before discarding the idea and viciously pulling the battery out of the device and leaving the two pieces on his desk.

"Reid."

Recognizing the no-nonsense tone Hotch was now using, he followed the man into his office and as soon as the door had closed behind them, Hotchner turned on him.

"Alright, what's going on?"

Spencer opened his mouth, the word 'nothing' preset to play like a broken record.

"If you say 'nothing', you're fired."

Her blinked, taken aback. Had Hotch just made a joke? His face looked far too grim for that to be a possibility, but he couldn't really be fired for giving an untrue answer to a personal question.

Could he?

He frowned. '_Of course he can't fire me! It's not like lying about something work related, this has no affect on my job at all_.'

"Reid, stop thinking so hard." Hotch said, looking exasperated.

"So it _was_ a joke." Spencer said, not understanding why it was supposed to be funny.

He watched as the Unit Chief pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "Could you take a seat please? We need to talk about a few things."

Spencer's stomach suddenly felt cold and he frowned at Hotch, closely studying his body language for any clues as to what the problem might be. As always, though, the man was difficult to read and Spencer began replaying every interaction he'd had with the man at lightning speed, starting with the most recent, and analyzing each one, trying to figure out what he might have done wrong.

Was it the skateboarding thing? Because he thought they'd sorted that out already. At least that was what Hotch had told him before he had left the man's house last night. The man in question was watching him closely and he flushed, sitting down in the chair in front of the desk. "Sorry."

"Why were you late this morning?"

He sighed heavily, his anger now gone, having been chased away by his sudden nervousness. "I..." he struggled to come up with something to say. Finally he just hung his head and admitted. "I was dealing with...family issues."

There was a moment of silence that followed his statement and Spencer knew exactly what was going through the other man's head. He wasn't stupid after all. Hotch was walking a fine line between urging Reid to open up on his own and just using his position of authority to force him to talk.

Hotch was growing frustrated. "Look, Reid, about last night."

Spencer tensed.

"I couldn't help but notice your reaction when I lost my temper."

Now heat was rising in the young doctor's face and he fought to contain the blush of embarrassment. _That's_ what this was all about? '_Why the hell would...oh_.' His hands become interesting all of a sudden, and he dropped his gaze to his lap.

He hadn't given much thought to his impulsive reaction when he thought Hotch might have been angry enough to hit him, at least he hadn't after he had left the man's house last night. Belatedly, he realized that the reason he was now sitting in his boss' office actually tied in with the events from this horrible morning and that Hotch had probably put two and two together from what had happened last night and come to the only possible conclusion.

"My father called me early this morning." He said, finally looking up at Hotch.

Apparently it hadn't been what the older man had expected Reid to say because he took a moment to blink as he studied his subordinate's face., which for Hotch was like someone falling out of their chair in shock.

"That answers most of my questions."

Spencer smiled bitterly. "Yeah well, he's been making a habit of it lately. This was the third time he's contacted me this year." When Hotch remained silent, he felt compelled to continue speaking. "Looking for money, as always. Seems that he started drinking again a few years ago and now he's worried about going dry."

"He's asking you for money to support his alcoholism?"

Spencer just nodded, chuckling a little at the absurdity of the situation. "I've been arguing with him since three am. I should know better than to try and have a rational conversation with him when he's that drunk."

Hotch peered at him from across the desk, appearing to be choosing his next words carefully.

"Reid, have you ever spoken to anyone about...your childhood?"

Like the involuntary reaction to Hotch's anger, Spencer could almost feel the walls slamming into place before his boss had even finished the question.

"Reid, don't do this..." Hotch started, reading the young man's body language easily.

"Don't do what? Aaron, what little there is to talk about, you already know." Using the person's first name was a common tactic in throwing them off balance around here. The first of many in a long list of ways Spencer could throw Hotch off the scent trail he was sniffing at.

But the man was not shaken by such a feeble manoeuvre. "That's not true and you know it."

Counter Tactic number one: Call their bluff with irrefutable confidence.

"Is this because of the skateboarding thing?" Spencer asked, looking as annoyed as he felt.

Tactic number two: Divert their attention with a topic of known sensitivity.

"No, this has to do with the fact that you thought I was going to hit you like your drunken father used to."

Counter Tactic number two: Don't take the bait and verbally punch them in the gut with your words.

Spencer stared at Hotch, unable to believe the audacity of the man. He slid forward in his chair and folded his arms atop the desk, fixing a frigid, unblinking gaze on his boss, his eyes glittering like chips of ice in the dim office lighting.

Hotch moved back a fraction of an inch as Spencer leaned forward. The miniscule movement might as well have been a sparkly post-it note that suddenly appeared on the Unit Chief's forehead with the word '_unnerved_' scribbled across it.

"My relationship with my father is something that I have been dealing with for a _very_ long time and you suddenly becoming aware of the fact that my issues with him run deeper and darker than what you thought does _not_ give you the right to back me into a corner and demand information." He stood, glaring down and drinking in Hotch's wide and cautious eyes. "Unless, over the last fourteen hours, this knowledge has allowed you to suddenly recognize a flaw in my work ethic that is a direct byproduct of my childhood and that you otherwise would have missed, then there really isn't a damn thing you can do about it, is there?"

Hotch had regained his composure by now and had stood and come around the desk to face Reid. He looked at him carefully for a moment, taking in his blank face, clenched jaw and burning gaze and said the only thing he was thinking.

"You really are intimidating when you feel threatened."

"Are we done?" Spencer asked through gritted teeth.

"Get your temper under control, Reid. You can't be slamming stuff around and yelling at Morgan."

"Pot calling the kettle black, don't you think?" Spencer observed with a raised eyebrow.

Hotch's face darkened and Spencer suddenly realized that he had overstepped his bounds.

"You're dismissed."

By the time lunch had rolled around, Spencer was feeling himself again. He had spend most of his time pouring over files and catching up on paper work like everyone else, but with the added benefit of being able to properly analyze his current situation so that it could be dealt with effectively.

He had since replaced the battery in his cell phone, rolling his eyes when he saw the three missed calls and three voice mails waiting for him. He ignored them for now, knowing that if he listened to them he would just become angry again.

It was nearing four in the afternoon, about the time when everyone started slacking on their work because they knew the day was almost over, when Spencer heard a voice he hadn't heard in years.

"Hi-excuse me! Hi there. I'm looking for Dr. Reid...?"

Spencer surged to his feet, turning towards the doors to the bullpen. "Ethan!"

His childhood friend stood there just inside the doors, where a woman carrying a stack of files had pointed when he mentioned Reid. Ethan and Spencer's faces broke into identical grins and they jumped towards one another and embraced, laughing.

After a moment they separated and held each other at arms length.

"God, it's been _ages_!"

"You look amazing!"

"What are you doing here?"

The clearing of a throat made them both stop and turn to look. Hotch stood by Reid's empty desk and the entire team had either poked their heads out of offices or raised them from their paper work to see what all the commotion was about.

"Reid, why don't you take an early day?" Hotch suggested, looking between the two grinning young men.

Ethan turned to look at him, his smile fading a bit. "Yeah, Spence. You need some time off."

Spencer smiled and grabbed his stuff from his desk, thanking Hotch and telling everyone that he would see them all tomorrow. He followed Ethan out to the parking lot after his friend had informed him that he'd rented a car for the week.

"Thank you...for coming, I mean." Spencer said once they were on the way to his house.

Ethan glanced at him. "You asked me to, Spence. And if _you're_ asking then I know it's gotten pretty bad."

When Spencer remained quiet, Ethan reached over and put a hand on his leg. "We'll figure it all out, man. We always do."

* * *

R&R Please! Reviews are the reason I've posted three stories in three days! You guys motivate me!


	3. Chapter 3

***SLASH*  **Now that I have your attention...thought I'd give you fair warning. It appears that this story has ended up with a bit of slash in it. I couldn't stop it...it was meant to be. Nothing heavy but be warned, it's pretty noticeable.

* * *

Spencer watched Ethan from where he stood in the kitchen. His friend was lounging on his sofa, engrossed in whatever was happening in the current episode of Doctor Who that was playing on the TV.

He hadn't thought Ethan would really fly all the way to Virginia just because of the simple voicemail he had left the man. Surely he would have had to drop quite a lot to just pick up and go like he had. He almost felt bad. Or he would have, if he wasn't so relieved that he was here in the first place.

He sighed when he heard the beeper on the coffee maker go off and turned to finish making the hot beverages, frowning when he heard Ethan turn off Doctor Who and switch it to something else.

Now that he was here, Spencer wasn't at all sure what it was that he needed from the man in the first place. He hadn't thought it through when he left the voicemail, he had only known that he needed Ethan here, with him. Perhaps it was that he was the only other person, besides himself of course, that knew exactly what it was that Spencer had gone through with his father. Ethan had been there every step of the way, after all. How many times had he gone running to the musician's house when he could not stand being in his own for a second longer? How many times had Ethan tenderly cleaned blood from his skin and dressed the wounds his father had inflicted on him? How many times has he given Spencer food from his mother's fridge because his parents were in no shape to take care of him?

He sighed, knowing the number and thinking that even having to do any of those things once was too much to ask of a person.

He made his way back to the living room, a mug in each hand, and frowned at the TV.

"What the hell are you watching? What happened to Doctor Who?"

The old movie was in black and white and showed three men in heavy coats standing around a dead body and discussing the scene of the crime.

"It's Sherlock Holmes and the Woman in Green!" Ethan replied with a laugh. "Horrible movie..."

"Then why are we watching it?" Spencer asked, handing Ethan his mug of coffee.

"We aren't going to watch it, Spencer. We're going to talk."

The young doctor sat on the couch, breathing a heavy sigh. "Right."

"Come on, Spence. You wouldn't have asked me to come here if you weren't at the end of your rope." the man across from him said gently. "I can count on one hand the number of times you've outright asked me for help and one of those times you were half dead."

"Oh, I was not!" Spencer snapped with a scowl. "Stop being so dramatic."

"Ok, fine. You weren't at Death's door, but you have to admit that you can be pretty stubborn when it comes to admitting that you need someone. Imagine my surprise when I get a voicemail from you at midnight, asking me to come and visit."

A brief flash of triumph flitted across the musician's face when Spencer did not reply, officially forfeiting the conversation and admitting that Ethan was, of course, right.

The man leaned forward and shoved Spencer gently in the shoulder, "So come on, genius, tell me what's going on."

The young doctor took a moment to collect his thoughts and began his story, hoping that by the end of it he would feel better. He always used to, when he'd spill his guts to Ethan when they were kids.

"My dad has contacted me three times this year." He started, thinking about how even that was abnormal for most people. "The first time he was sober. The second time he was drunk and the third time, last night, or this morning rather, he was completely shit faced."

Ethan was already looking concerned. For he knew that any story starring William Reid was always going to have a dramatic end. "What the hell did he want?"

"Money. What else? Apparently he's drunken himself into debt. Again. He seems to think I'll give him some of _my_ money if he threatens me enough." He looked down at his hands. "Not surprising he'd fall back on old tactics."

After heaving a large sigh, Ethan said, "Well, he _is_ all the way in Vegas. Plus, his drunken threats are something you've dealt with before...worse case scenario you could get a restraining order."

Spencer grimaced, reaching for his coffee. "I guess. Seems a bit extreme though."

He could feel Ethan's gaze on the side of his face. "I know as well as you that you can't be too careful when it comes to your father. You know what he's capable of, Spencer. Better to be proactive and stop it before it even starts. Otherwise you'll have to clean up the mess after its over."

Spencer smiled at his friend. "I know you're right." His smile faded a bit. "I'm glad you're here, Ethan. I just wish that it was under better circumstances."

"Come on, watching bad television, complaining about what an ass your father is...just like old times!"

Ethan's smile was infectious and Spencer felt the corners of his own mouth pull upwards in response.

"When was the last time we got to do something like this, anyway? University?"

Spencer nodded, his mouth full of coffee.

"Yeah, that's right! We were in my dorm room and I was bitching about how Mark was such a pig and that I'd never find a decent guy in this industry." He chuckled, reminiscing about his own melodramatics. "Man that feels like a lifetime ago."

The young genius couldn't help but agree.

"Do you remember that day?" He asked, grinning when Spencer sent him a sidelong glance.

After a moment, in which he could feel the musician's intense gaze observing him, the man spoke again, his voice low.

"Do you remember that _night_?"

How could he forget? Spencer asked himself, feeling another smile coming on. As soon as the question had reached his ears a slew of images assaulted him and with them came sounds, smells and...touches.

He sunk deeper into the sofa, closing his eyes against the physical sensations that manifested in response to the vivid memory he was reliving. Of Ethan's hand on the inside of his thigh, applying gentle pressure. Of his lips on his neck, his chest, his stomach...

"Do you remember how hot it was that night?"

It had been incredibly hot that particular day, almost a hundred degrees, if he remembered correctly. It hadn't been long before their skin was slick and their breath was laboured, the old fan sitting on the floor in the corner providing no relief from the oppressive heat as its poor overworked motor droned on in the background.

"Those ice cubes had felt so good on your skin, hadn't they?"

Ethan pressed an ice cube to the inside of both his knees, causing him to cry out at the icy tingle. The musician only chuckled and wasted no time in trailing the ice up the inside of his thighs, over his hips, across his abdomen and to his chest, where the last slivers of ice melted away, leaving Ethan's hands wet and sinfully cool. It felt wonderful when those hands circled loosely around his slender neck and then rose to tangle in his hair, gripping it hard as Ethan's mouth descended on his in a heated kiss.

"It felt so good when I touched you. You trembled all over."

Ethan's hands were everywhere. Pulling his hair, gripping his arms, dragging nails down his back, pushing his knees open...

"You tasted incredible."

Spencer felt those strong and steady hands move from his knees, gently rubbing circles up the inside of his thighs as Ethan pushed his legs farther apart so that he could sit comfortably between them. He exhaled a shaky breath, trying, and failing, to keep track of all the wonderful sensations Ethan was overloading him with. He could feel light puffs of air just under his navel and strong hands gripping his hips tightly before...

Forcefully dragging himself back to the present, Spencer's eyes flew open and he emitted a noise somewhere between a wine and a growl, his hips twitching of their own accord.

"What the hell are you trying to do to me, Ethan?" he growled accusingly, knowing full well that the other man knew exactly what he was doing.

This wasn't the first time his friend had done his own twisted version of a cognitive interview on him.

"Spencer..."

Ethan's hand was now firmly gripping his leg, higher up than was platonically acceptable, and Spencer could feel the man's breath on his neck.

He tried in vain to remember all the reasons why they should not do this. All the reasons they had decided never to do it again after the last time. But he could not seem to hold on to them and when Ethan's hand moved from his leg to the waistband of his jeans, Spencer could think of nothing else to do but tilt his hips to give the man better access.

"Yesss..." Ethan hissed when Spencer tilted his head to the side and allowed the man to trail kisses down his neck.

Having had about enough of the restriction that the sofa forced upon them, Spencer surged to his feet, grabbing the front of Ethan's shirt and pulling the man along behind him in the direction of his bedroom.

"You always have such great ideas, Spencer..."

* * *

Something was happening in the region of his eardrums. He thought it might be noise.

He frowned in concentration.

Yes. It was definitely some sort of noise. Some sort of _annoying_ noise.

"...the fuck is that?" he heard Ethan grumble behind him, his voice muffled somewhat by post sex sleep and the pillow he had his face shoved in.

Spencer lifted his head, squinting in the direction of his open bedroom door. "Is that someone knocking?" he asked, glancing at the clock on his night stand to double check the late hour and wondering who the hell could be banging on his door at this time of night.

He let his head fall back onto his pillow, much too drowsy to care. "Can you go see who that is and tell them to go away?"

Ethan sat up beside him and Spencer could hear the man grumbling and after a few seconds, the sheet covering him was ripped away, causing him to cry out at the sudden loss of heat.

"That's what you get for making me do your dirty work, princess." Ethan said, sauntering out of the bedroom, the stolen sheet the only thing covering his nakedness.

Spencer launched himself off the bed and snatched the first blanket he saw out of the closet on the other side of the room and wrapped it around his body, wondering how it could be so incredibly hot during the day and freezing cold at night.

He had been just about to fall back into his bed when the sound of voices reached his ears from the front door. They sounded like they were arguing and it made him frown, wondering what the problem was.

Were they refusing to leave?

Suddenly his stomach knotted and he pushed the air from his lungs. What if his father had followed through with his threat? What if William Reid was standing at his door arguing with Ethan? What if he tried to get in to his house? What if he hurt Ethan?

Reid grabbed the gun from the safe in his closet and moved to his bedroom door, clutching the bed sheet around his waist. Already scared that things might be moving quickly south, Spencer wasted no time in leaving his room and rounding the corner to face his father at the door.

Except that is wasn't his father standing in his doorway, it was Morgan, Hotch and Rossi.

He cursed, feeling like his heart was about to beat right out of his ribcage. Apparently knowing that the threat of his father was non existent did not help rid his bloodstream of the adrenaline currently coursing through it.

He became aware of the fact that he was being stared at. Ethan was trying desperately to hide his grin behind his hand while his three coworkers, having spotted the gun in his hand and noticing that he seemed to be trying to regulate his breathing, were starting to look worried.

"What's going on here?" Hotch asked, his voice intimidating. His gaze, along with Morgan and Rossi's, all slid simultaneously over to Ethan, who had managed to get his facial expression under control and was now standing by the open door, looking confused about the hostile looks being directed at him.

"Reid, you alright?" Morgan asked, slowly advancing on Ethan, his fists balled up tightly.

The musician did a double take when he noticed the muscular agent moving towards him with a murderous look in his eyes.

"What?" Spencer asked, feeling confused. "Yes, I'm fine. Morgan, what are you-"

"Reid, come here." Rossi interrupted, moving towards him.

Hotch was now moving towards Ethan as well.

Suddenly it all clicked and Spencer nearly started laughing. He settled on rolling his eyes and sidestepping Rossi. When he walked by the sofa he tossed the gun down and strode purposefully over to where Ethan was slowly retreating from his boss and colleague and placed himself between the two parties.

His move caused Morgan and Hotch to blink stupidly, clearly confused about why Reid might be protecting the man they had decided was his attacker.

"What are you guys doing here?" he asked rudely, annoyed by the interruption.

After a moment spent looking back and forth between Ethan and Spencer, Morgan stuttered. "We came by to see if you wanted to go for drinks or something. You seemed so stressed at work we just thought..."

He looked suspiciously over Spencer's shoulder and the young genius wondered why until he felt Ethan's heavy hand gently curl around the juncture where his shoulder joined his neck.

"Don't worry, he's not stressed anymore, Agent Morgan."

Spencer closed his eyes, remembering that one of the 'reasons', which had so peskily alluded him earlier, was Ethan's possessive personality. He also just remembered that he was wearing nothing but a bed sheet.

"Ethan..." He growled.

The musician's hand left his neck and he retreated. "Sorry."

His three coworkers were now staring at him with wide eyes, having only just realized what they'd barged in on.

"Oh, Ethan!" Morgan cried suddenly, grinning from ear to ear. "I didn't recognize you without...any clothes on." Impossibly, Morgan's grin grew wider and he looked over at Spencer again. "Sorry to interrupt, pretty boy."

"Well, gentlemen." Rossi said, speaking to Morgan and Hotch and not bothering to hide the smirk on his face, "I think we may have worn out our welcome. Why don't we leave these two to," he glanced over at Reid, who was slowly turning red in the face, "well, to whatever it was they were doing."

"Agreed." Ethan said, causing Spencer to whip his head around to glare at him.

"Shut up." he snapped, annoyed that the man was getting so much amusement out of his embarrassment.

Unfazed, the musician merely cocked a brow. "You're one to talk." he sauntered back towards the bedroom, "You might want to take your own advice...then maybe we wont have any more neighbours knocking on our door and asking if we need them to call the police."

"That only happened once!" Spencer yelled after him.

He immediately hung his head and chuckled darkly, his hands on his hips. "Walked right into that one, didn't I?" he said to himself, feeling the eyes of his coworkers boring holes in the side of his head.

He looked up and snidely said, "You guys still here?"

Morgan was struggling not to laugh. "Well I'd ask if you still wanted to come out for drinks but it looks like you have your hands tied."

"Nah, he won't let me do that anymore." Ethan said, walking across the hall to the washroom.

"Oh my god." Spencer muttered, passing a hand over his eyes. If he hadn't been so annoyed, he might have felt more embarrassed.

He turned on Morgan, Hotch and Rossi and said it like he meant it. "Get out of my house."

Rossi was already halfway out the door and Hotch was close behind him, still looking stunned about having caught innocent little Reid wearing nothing more then a bed sheet and a pretty obvious post passion hairdo.

Morgan had to be physically shoved over the threshold by an increasingly agitated genius. He slammed the door closed as soon as the other man was on the other side and lean against it, sighing deeply.

Just thinking of what he would have to endure tomorrow at work made him groan out load.

"Spence, you coming to bed, or what?" Ethan called from his bedroom.

He pushed himself away from the door and shuffled dejectedly towards his room, praying to whatever gods there may be that Morgan would _not_ tell Garcia about what he had learned tonight.

* * *

Ok so yeah, about the slash...sorry if you don't like it but shit happens.

R&R please!


	4. Chapter 4

Dear Asshole who submitted an anonymus review because they didn't have the balls to let me reply: You shall never get back the time you spent reading this fanfiction. It is mine forever. If you are worried about wasting precious minutes, next time keep your nasty and pointless review to yourself and save us both some time.

Hope you have a terrible day,

MyownlilfantC

* * *

Spencer had already gulped down two large cups of coffe before he'd even boarded the train. When he got to his stop, he took a detour to get a third cup before making his way to work.

The lady behind the counter frowned at him when he asked for the largest cup size they had, noting his already shaky hands, and after he'd used up half their sugar packets, Spencer finally faced the fact that he could stall no longer and made his way to work, trying to come up with all the possible ways his friends might tease him about last night. He knew there was nothing he could do to prevent it, but it at least gave him time to come up with some counter attacks.

By the time he arrived at the government building ten minutes later, his coffee was almost gone and his heart was hammering against his ribcage.

He shook his head, feeling rediculous that his hands trembled as he clutched his coffee compulsively. He kept telling himself the tremors and pounding heart were just because of the ridiculous amount of caffein coursing through his veins, as three large cups in an hour was far above the norm even for him.

Alas, the anxiety was not the result of too much coffee. He knew the real reason, as much as it annoyed him to admit.

After Morgan, Hotch and Rossi had left his house last night, Spencer's father had called him again, already drunk, and with a new sob story about why he needed money.

The conversation had not gone well and had finally ended when Ethan had taken the phone out of his hand and hung up on the screaming man.

Spencer had not resisted, since he had been so preoccupied with trying to control the storm of emotions swirling in his head like a cyclone, ripping up old feelings and issues from where they had been carefully burried for so many years.

"Why is he the only one that has this effect on me?" He had mumbled into his hands.

"You're not Super Man, genius. It's not a bad thing that you get upset when your parent screams at you in a drunken rage." Ethan was gently rubbing his back. "I'd be worried if you _didn't_ get upset after a row like that."

"I guess." He had conceeded, once again grateful that Ethan was here with him. After a moment he sighed, "He said he was coming here."

"He's all talk, Spencer. Besides, he'd never be able to sober up long enough to be allowed onto an aircraft."

He had finally looked over at Ethan then, getting tired of this nervous feeling twisting his stomach into knots. "Yeah, but what if he _does_?"

"Then we'll deal with it."

Spencer was pulled from his thoughts when the elevator came to a stop and the doors opened. He stepped out of the lift and went to take another mouthful of coffee, only to find his cup was empty, forcing him to make his second detour that morning in the name of coffee, this time to the break room. If he was going to face his team or, more specifically, face Garcia, then he was going to need more of the sweet black liquid.

He cursed when some of the coffee missed his cup and ended up on the counter top, wishing his hands would stop shaking so badly.

_'If I'm wishing for stuff I guess I just wish my dad wasn't such a looser.'_

He suddenly imagined his father showing up at his work. Or worse, showing up at his work drunk. The thought alone made his heart beat faster and he tried to shake away the disturbing thought while he focused on stirring his coffee.

He was on the fast track to a panic attack and knew he needed to calm down, however, he had experienced many a panick attack before, and this thought only served to make him more anxious. He swore and gave up stirring his coffee, placing his hands on the counter and closing his eyes and trying to even out his breathing.

But when his eyes closed it just gave his brain a chance to conjure up more scenarious involving his intoxicated father harming and/or humiliating him in some way.

"Fuck!" he snapped, blindly slamming the cupboard door closed in frustration and fisting his hair as he leaned back against the counter, now taking large gulps of air, his chest heaving.

He couldn't believe he was letting this happen. He couldn't believe his father was affecting him this way after just _threatening_ to come to Virginia. He had fully intented to further scold himself for his childish behaviour but was becoming increasingly lightheaded, his deep breaths having already progressed to the point where he was now hyperventilating.

He sank to the floor, braced his elbows on his knees and pressed his forehead to the palms of his hands, curling his fingers around strands of hair tightly.

The sound of someone's voice registered in his brain, somehow managing to penetrate the dense cloud of anxiety fogging up his senses. A few seconds later someone's hands had grabbed hold of his shoulders, pushing them down so that his head hung between his knees.

Grateful that he now had something else to focus on, Spencer tried to listen to the voice when it spoke to him.

"...on, Reid. Take a deep breath, kid..."

He tried to follow the instructions, knowing full well it was what he needed to do if he didn't want to pass out, but his chest burned so much when he tried that he couldn't hold it.

Morgan's voice was becoming more clear though, and he tried again.

"That's it, Reid, take another one..."

He filled his lungs again and exhaled in a controled manner, feeling the dizziness start to fade. After a few more deep breaths and Morgan's comforting hand on his back, Spencer finally felt like he could raise his head without the room tilting sideways and he leaned it back against the cupboard behind him.

"Well...haven't had one of those in a while." He mumbled, the shake in his hands having migrated to the rest of his body.

"You alright, kid?"

Spencer opened his eyes, unaware that Rossi had even been in the room until then.

"Yeah, just a panic attack." He explained as if it were the most normal thing in the world. "Nothing I haven't dealt with before."

He pushed his back against the wood behind him, using it to shimmy into a standing position. When he opened his eyes again, though, he found the dizziness had not left him entirely and he was already stumbling by the time his brain caught up with what his eyes were telling it.

Fortunately, Rossi and Morgan had both predicted just such an outcome and had moved in time to steady him.

"Reid, sit down." Morgan instructed, pulling a chair out from the small table against the wall.

"No, I'm fine, really." The young genius insisted, waving away the other man's concerns. He was telling the truth, mostly. The dizziness was almost gone and the trembling had subsided.

"You nearly lost consciousness on the break room floor because you had a panic attack, Reid! You are obviously _not_ fine."

"I have to agree." Rossi rumbled in his low baritone, looking at the younger man closely.

"Look, it's over now, ok? I used to get them all the time when I was a kid, it's fine." All the same, he dumped his coffee down the sink before leaving the break room and heading to his desk.

The two agents tailed him closely, watching his every move.

"You guys, come _on_!" he cried after he had turned to pull out his chair and nearly collided with Morgan. "I'm not going to keel over and have a heart attack. Chill out." he finished, laying his palm flat against Morgan's chest a shoving him away.

The older agent looked sceptical, as if he thought Reid just _might_ keel over at any second, but took a seat at his own desk non the less.

"Alright, but if you feel like-"

"You'll be the first to know." Spencer finished for him, not looking up from the stack of files he had just pulled towards him.

Unfortunately, this day was not destined to be the quiet one he had hoped for and it was not long before Garcia came bouncing in to the bull pen, shattering the short lived silence.

It seemed that no matter how hard he tried, Spencer could just not curl into a ball that was small enough to be overlooked by Garcia's keen gaze and he felt the tech analyst's sparkle lined eyes zero in on him like he was the mouse and she was the hawk.

He jumped when she poked him in the shoulder and turned his gaze, narrowed in wariness, up to study her face.

She was grinning widely. Insanely.

"Hi!" she exclaimed, her grin never wavering.

He pursed his lips. "Hello."

Aparently that he been the invitation she was looking for and she hauled a chair up beside his and sat down, crossing her legs and fixing that all knowing stare upon him, her grin still firmly in place.

"So," she began, adjusting her skirt.

"Morgan, on second thought, maybe I am still feeling a little dizzy." He tried to stand but Garcia grabbed his wrist and yanked him back down with surprising strength.

"Oh no, junior G-man. We need to talk." she said. Her maniacle grin was still in place but her tone of voice was dead serious.

Spencer stared at her wide eyed, frozen.

"Baby girl, just leave him a-"

"Derek, shush!" The blonde snapped, her grin dissapearing and reapearing so quick it left the two men blinking. She looked back at Reid and said sweetly. "Now, a little birdy told me that Ethan stayed over at your place last night."

"Was it a one hundred and eighty pound birdy with more muscle than brains?" Spencer hissed, glaring over his shoulder at Morgan, who was studiously bent over his paperwork.

"It doesn't matter sweety. What matters is that you tell me every little detail-"

"Garcia! No!"

"Oh, come on Reid, you can tell me!"

Spencer sighed and shook his head. "Penelope..."

"Was it your first time together?" She gasped, "Oh my god, was it your first time?"

"What...I...yes. I mean no!" he huffed when she clapped her hands delightedly.

"No to which one?" She asked, leaning in close.

"Both!"

He could not believe he was having this conversation at work. It was so unprofessional, not to mention mortifying. He could feel Morgan grinning at his back, aparently no longer concerned for his health. God, what if Hotch decided to come in early that day or something?

"Ohhh, but he _was_ your first?"

"Yes, alright? Could you please leave me alone now?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"So when _was _your first time?"

"I was sixteen." she opened her mouth but he cut her off . "He was eighteen."

A smile was slowly growing on her face. "And was it...?"

He thought it was strange that he hadn't thought about that night in years and this was now the second time he had been reminded of it in two days. And just like the first time, it made him smile just to think about it.

"It was incredible." he admitted, shaking his head when she clapped her hands again and giggled like a school girl. But he was growing tired of this and could think of only one thing to do that would shut her up long enough for him to escape. He stood just as she was opening her mouth to ask another question. "And the four times we did it last night were just as incredible as the first."

Her mouth, already open, fell just a little more, her words dying in her state of shock. When he turned and left the bullpen, he saw that Morgan's face was configured in much the same way as hers and he grinned, shoving his hands in his pockets and ignoring the strange stares he was recieving for the smug look on his face.

* * *

After he had wandered around aimlessly long enough to be confident that Garcia had retreated to her lair, Spencer returned to the bullpen, relieved when he saw everyone bent over their desks, _silently_ working on catching up with the mountains of paper work that had accumulated over the last few cases.

Thankfully, the tranquility held long enough for him to finish his own paper work a few hours before it was time to call it a day, leaving him free to lean back in his chair and reply to the few texts that Ethan had sent him throughout the afternoon. The man had clearly been bored. Or at least bored enough to send him texts such as:

'Hey, do you have a lap top hidden somewhere?'

Then about an hour later he got another one:

'So don't be surprised if you see an extra charge on your cable bill for The Whole Nine Inches...'

Spencer stiffled a laugh and was about to text him back when the man himself came crashing theatrically through the doors to the bull pen, tripping non too gracefully in his haste. The musician took a moment to straighten out his shirt and run a hand through his hair so that he looked somewhat presentable before casting his gaze around, looking for Spencer.

Once he had been spotted, Ethan strode to his desk, where Spencer had been rooted to the spot, and grabbed him firmly by the shoulders.

"Ethan, what the hell-"

"Don't freak out," the man started, instantly making him start to do just that, "But your dad might have shown up at your house looking for you a few hours ago."

Spencer shook his head, "What? What do you mean 'might have'?" he cried, surging to his feet.

"Well by 'might have' I mean he did."

"Ethan!"

He twisted out of the musician's grasp and paced an entire circle around the cluster of desks, unaware of Emily, Morgan and Ethan watching him closely.

Now that his fears had become a reality, Spencer found himself unable to come up with a plan to deal with his father. When he came around to his desk again he stopped and turned to Ethan, wringing his hands and darting his eyes around the room as if he expected his father to pop out a filing cabinet and start yelling at him.

"I spent so much time worrying about whether he would follow through with his threat and fly out here that I didn't think of what to do if he actually showed up! What the hell am I going to do?" He cried, almost certain he sounded just as close to hysterics as he felt. "He'll kill me. He always said he would, he always-"

"Spencer, calm down-"

"-said one day that he'd get rid of me for good." He look over at Morgan, not really seeing him and was quiet for a moment while his brain went through all the possible scenarios and outcomes. None of them were good. "This isn't going to end well, I know it. I've taken every possible situation and calculate the outcomes and none of them will end well and my calculations are _never_ wrong."

"Reid man, listen to me-"

But Spencer was lost in his head, talking out loud to himself.

"But that's ok because I know now. I have to factor that in to the possible outcomes. Knowledge changes everything. I can be prepared. I can-" He stopped his frantic muttering abruptly when a sudden idea struck him.

His eyes traveled down to his desk and he took a few miliseconds to weight the pros and cons before lunging forward and wrenching the drawer open, deftly plucking the gun from amongst balled up post-it notes, pens and various other office parifenalia.

"Reid, no! Give me the gun!" Mogan cried, looking severely alarmed.

He and Emily had both surged to their feet when they had realised what he'd grabbed from the drawer and Emily had her hand on her own gun, looking uncertain as to what she should do. The burden of deciding was quickly taken away from her, however, when Hotch, Rossi and JJ all emerged from their offices when they heard Morgan's shout.

"Reid!" Hotch said, pulling his gun from his holster but leaving the weapon at his side.

Spencer ignored them, they were just over reacting anyway. He wasn't going to shoot his father, he just meant to intimidate him a little.

His grip on the handle tightened and he glanced over at Ethan, surprised to see how frightened he looked. "I can't let this be another incedent like that one on Halloween."

The musician went from looking scared, to horrified to incredibly sad. He slowly approached Spencer and the young genius watched him come, hoping he'd have something to say that would make him feel better. Ethan was good at that.

"Spence, I told you that would _never_ happen again and I meant it." The musician bit his lip and glanced over Spencer's shoulder to where JJ and Garcia had their hands over their mouth, then over to Hotch and Emily standing at the ready with their weapons in hand and then to Rossi and Morgan who looked confused and worried and then finaly back to Reid. "Please give me the gun, Spencer."

Ethan held out his hand expectantly and Spencer pushed the gun into it, trusting the other when he said that he would not allow his father to get to him.

Ethan handed the gun to Morgan and then turned back to face him and grabbed his hands. He closed his eyes when Ethan pressed their foreheads together. "I'm going to help you through this, ok? We can deal with your father without guns."

Spencer felt his the corners of his mouth twitch in the beginning stages of a smile but then it faded. "I know I've said this a million times but I'm really glad you're here."

"Me too."

Spencer felt the other man's hand on the back of his neck, pulling him in. Their lips met and Spencer imidiately felt the office fade away into the background and any thoughts of his father dissolved in the moment. When he felt Ethan's tongue gently probing, he immediately open his mouth to allow him access and felt Ethan's grip on the back of his neck tighten.

It was the sound of Garcia's camera going off that made Spencer pull away from the musician.

His gaze snapped over to the blonde, who was grinning broadly again. But before Spencer had a chance to say anything, Ethan grabbed him by the arm and steered him out of the bull pen, giving Hotch a pointed look and recieving a tight nod in response.

* * *

After Ried and Ethan had left the office, Hotch finally holstered his gun, feeling horrible for even having pulled it in the first place, but he felt a little better knowing that Emily had done the same thing. The team all looked at each other silently, breathing a tentative sigh of relief. None of them said it out loud, feeling too guilty to admit what they'd all been thinking.

But Hotch knew. He knew because he'd feared the same thing as the rest of the team when he saw the gun in Reid's hand and the vacant, unresponsive stare and slack features.

The young man was only twenty eight years old; a dangerous and scary age for someone with schizphrenia in their genes.

"Morgan." Hotch called, jerking his head in the direction of his office and signally for Rossi to join them as well.

Garcia, JJ and Prentiss stood in a circle by Emily's desk, talking quietly amongst themselves and looking every so often in the direction of the doors to the bull pen.

Once the three men were in the Unit Chief's office, he closed the door.

"I think one of us should go to Reid's house."

"I'll go." Morgan volunteered right away.

Hotch and Rossi nodded their approval and Hotch took a moment to chose his next words carefully, running a hand over his mouth. "Reid confided in me the other day about something and I wouldn't normaly share such private information but I feel like the situation is not only worse then he let on but that it has now moved beyond his control."

"That doesn't sound like Reid at all." Rossi deadpanned.

Hotch shot him a look and continued. "Reid was physically and emotionally abused by his father throughout his childhood. From what I've observed since he told me this I think that there were times when it was...bad. His father was an alcoholic and spent most of his time venting his frustrations on his son."

"Damn." Morgan cursed, running a hand over his head. He gave himself a mental shake and sighed, "Alright, I'm gonna go over to Reid's."

"Make sure you knock first!" Rossi called after him.

* * *

Please Review

*Note, losers who flame will be deleted and sent nasty messages.


	5. Chapter 5

By the time they got back to his apartment, Reid had managed to calm himself down considerably and was feeling more than a little guilty for the way he had acted back at the office. It was rare for him to lose his head like that but his father had always had that affect on him.

He allowed Ethan to guide him through the door and push him down into his sofa, muttering about making some tea and to not move.

He hung his head, resting his elbows on his knees and feeling another wave of guilt wash over him as his childhood friend shuffled about his small kitchen.

He had scared them, he could remember that look in the eyes of his team mates with the perfect clarity he was known for.

"What the hell was I thinking?" He grumbled, rubbing at his eyes tiredly.

"Quit beating yourself up, Spencer."

He took the offered mug of tea and Ethan sat down beside him.

There was a moment of silence in which the two men simply stared at their steaming mugs, too hot to drink.

"Thought Hotch was going to shoot me." Reid said, his lips twisting into a half smile.

The comment had the desired effect and Ethan burst out laughing. "Does he always look so...so..."

Reid nodded. "Yeah."

They both jumped when there was a sharp knock at the door, and looked at each other with panic. Ethan was the one to go to the door, gesturing for Spencer to stay back.

"Who's there?" He called through the wood.

"It's Morgan."

Reid exhaled, his muscles loosening as he sunk back into the sofa.

Ethan opened the door and Derek strode through, glancing quickly around the apartment, no doubt looking for danger out of habit.

"Listen Reid, Hotch doesn't think it's a good idea for you to be on your own right now."

"I'm with him." Ethan said, sounding more than a little indignant at being overlooked.

Morgan smiled easily. "Ok, let me rephrase that. Hotch wants an FBI agent here." he dropped his smile at Reid's unhappy look. "Come on, Pretty Boy, it's only until we catch your dad."

Spencer stood, shaking his head, his hands held before him like he was waiting to be handed something. "_Catch my dad_?" he echoed, "When the hell did that become the objective here?"

"Come on, Reid, the man is harassing and threatening you. How else did you think this was going to turn out? You've already asked him to leave you alone several times." Morgan took a few steps toward him and he crossed his arms defensively. "If this was anyone but you, if it was any other case-"

"This isn't a _case_, Morgan!" Reid snarled, angry that he was being treated and spoken to like a victim. "I've been dealing with this asshole my whole life-"

"So when is it gonna end?" Morgan interrupted. "How long are you going to allow this to continue before you admit that something needs to be done?"

Spencer could think of nothing to say to that and looked over to Ethan for support. What he got instead was his friend shrugging and saying, "Don't look at me man, I'm with him."

The older agent placed his hands on Reid's shoulders, gripping them hard. "Try and think of it from a profiler's point of view, Reid. If this _was _a case you were working, what would you advise the victim to do?"

Reid sighed, but began thinking it through like Morgan asked.

Thinking of his father as the 'unsub' made him wince, but he continued.

William Reid, aged fifty two. Born, raised and currently resides in Las Vegas, Nevada. Was married to Diana Reid and divorced in 1995. Son, Spencer Reid, aged twenty eight, currently resides in Quantico, Virginia. William has had ongoing issues with alcoholism for many years and once in 1993, authorities were sent to the house to investigate a 911 call from a concerned neighbor. Spencer Reid contacted police after receiving several threatening phone calls from his father demanding money-

He sighed again, not needing to continue. "You're right."

"I know I'm right I just needed you to figure that our for yourself."

Reid pushed the man away with a smile, "Shut up." he sighed and went back to coffee table to get his tea. "So what is the plan from here, _Agent Morgan_?" he deadpanned.

"Well," The older agent stopped abruptly and his eyes snapped down to the steaming mug clenched in Spencer's hands. He leaned over slowly and sniffed cautiously. Then his eyes slid shut and he inhaled a long pull of the steam rising from the cup. "Man, what _is_ that?"

Reid felt his face contort into something between a frown of confusion and a smirk of amusement. "It's Pu'erh tea."

"It smells like...like...forest and dirt and those greenhouse stores my mom used to drag me to." Morgan said, his eyes unfocused as he tried to come up with the right words to adequately describe the smell. "Man, one wiff of that had me back when I was ten playing in the woods and helping my mama in the garden."

Ethan and Spencer shared a look and Ethan clapped the agent on the shoulder. "I'll make you a cup."

The two coworkers moved to sit on the sofa and for a moment there was silence before Morgan leaned in conspiratorialy and whispered. "I'll tell you what the plan is but first you have to answer a question."

Spencer glanced sideways at the man, trying to puzzle out just what it was that he was up to. And he was most definitely up to _something_, because he'd seen that look before. He wondered if the man had been faking his reaction to the tea just to get Ethan out of the room. "Fine. What?"

"What's the deal with you and Ethan?"

He couldn't help the tensing of his muscles and quickly replied. "We're friends."

"With benefits?"

"Morgan!"

The man backed off suddenly, his hands in the air. "Hey man, I was just curious!"

"Here's your tea!" Etahn exclaimed, waltzing into the living room and shoving the mug under Morgan's nose, perhaps a little forcefully.

One look was enough to tell Spencer that he'd heard their little exchange, though he wasn't sure if his friend was so mad because of Morgan's prying questions or the fact that Spencer had given him the label of friend.

"Morgan? The plan?"

"Right." The agent took a deep breath and shrugged, "Actually it's pretty straight forward. We've already alerted the local police and gave them a picture of your dad. Basically, we sit back and wait for him to get caught. In the meantime, though, I'm staying here with you, 'cause we both know the most likely place he'll show up is at your door, Pretty Boy." he sniffed, "Oh, and Hotch is already working on getting that restraining order done."

Spencer sighed, feeling tired. "Shit."

"Spence, "Ethan said, sitting on his other side. "I know it all seems extreme, but you said so yourself, if you were on the outside looking in, you'd be telling the person to do that exact same thing."

"Yeah, I know."

* * *

The rest of the day passed quickly once Morgan had discovered the Playstation Reid had hidden under his couch and by the time they realized it was now dark outside, Reid had brutally murdered Morgan several times in a series of messy Player vs Player death matches.

The larger agent tossed the controller down with a growl. "Man! You're _'I don't know nothin' about technology and pop music'_ is all bullshit, ain't it?!"

Reid frowned at him contemplatively. "You know, I've noticed recently that there is a direct correlation between your level of irritation and the degradation of your grammar."

"Don't make me hit you, man."

Spencer smirked and handed the tv remot to Morgan, who was still in the middle of sulking, and went to make himself another cup of tea. There was something incredibly satisfying about beating Morgan at video games and rather thought that it needed to happen more often.

There was a knock at the door.

Reid's brain kicked into overdrive within a fraction of a second, tea forgotten, and began analysing.

Loud, heavy handed. Drunk. Something else had hit that wasn't just flesh. Something hard. A ring? Yes. Wedding band? No. Graduation ring. His father had always worn his grad ring from law school.

"It's him." he mouthed quietly before the last knock even sounded.

Morgan had stood from the couch and moved to the door, gun in one hand with the other on the door knob.

"Who is it?" the agent called through the wood.

"Spencer?" William called back, sounding a little confused by Morgan's deeper voice.

Morgan opened the door carefully, gun held loosely, but clearly visible, at his side.

"Mr. Reid, you are trespassing on the property of someone who has a restraining order against you. If you don't leave immediately, you will be arrested."

Will remained standing in the doorway, neither inside nor out, and glanced over at Spencer incredulously before looking back to Morgan. "He's my kid!"

"And you're harassing him. Now beat it or your spending the night in jail."

"Look," the lawyer sighed, dismissing Morgan and turning to look at his son, "I just want to talk. That's all."

"I'm not talking to you anymore, dad. I have nothing to say that I haven't already said a hundred times."

"Just give me a chance!"

"No."

There was silence after that and Spencer stared at his father defiantly, feeling more confident with Derek and Ethan in the room to help him.

"Look, I'm sober. Could we please just-"

"Liar!" Spencer snapped, feeling angry. "You think I can't tell when you've had even just one drink? You can't lie to me. Now, get out before you get arrested."

"Spencer, I'm not stupid, threatening me with a restraining order? Really? We both know you don't have one."

"Actually..."

Hotch's voice came from behind Will, forcing the man into the apartment to turn and see who had spoken.

The SSA stalked in slowly after the drunken man, an official looking piece of paper thrust before him. "I have that right here." Hotch nodded tightly to Morgan, who then stepped forward and slapped some handcuffs on Will's wrists before the lawyer even knew what had happened.

"William Reid you are under arrest for trespassing and violation of your restraining order. You have the right to an attorney..."

Spencer watched as his enraged father was escorted to the black SUV outside, feeling as if all that had happened was a bit surreal but also feeling a hell of a lot better knowing that this would likely be the last he saw of his father, especially when he had people like the BAU at his back.

* * *

**END**

* * *

Done! Sorry for the long wait between updates, I seriously have lost interest in this story.


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